Worth Working For
by PseudonymA1
Summary: Rating For Swearing Why Han chose to come back to the Alliance, even after he could leave with a free conscious. He saved Luke, but he didn't have to stick around...and he did. Also, a small bit off Leia goes a Little Off Her Rocker fun.


A/N: Okay, it's been a long day, and my family just got back from vacation. So the peace of my weekend with Daddy has been shattered by my brothers and sister. I played with Pippin for ages and Emmy-Rae welcomed me with more hugs than a person should have to deal with. And how did I bond with my dear Jay? Why by watching Spaceballs: The Movie (while enjoying Spaceballs: The Breakfast Cereal). It has spawned this fic, who'd have thought? The ultimate sci-fi parody has inspired a majorly fluffy work.  
  
Takes place after the death of the Death Star but before the medal ceremony. An oft ignored (as far as I know) missing moment. And Han does have those, you know...  
  
  
Peace Out! (mouschi)  
  
  
"Worth Working For"  
  
Han put the Millennium Falcon into hyperdrive as he left the temples of Yavin IV the second time that day. The surly Corellian piloted sullenly, ignoring the chastising remarks his copilot shot at him. He was in no mood to deal with Chewbacca. He'd had quite a day with the kid he'd met on Tatooine, and all Han was interested in was a cheap motel and an equally cheap liquor. Anything to take the searing blow Princess Leia Organa had made on his brain.  
Leia. The name alone conjured up conflicting images. A tiny, frightened woman being pulled into the hallway by Luke. A petite fireball screaming at him in the garbage compactor. A dignified Senator supplying that Alliance General with information. A giddy teenager pulling him into a warm embrace. Han almost wished he'd stayed for the medal ceremony; he'd have liked to see how Leia would act for the occasion. Not that he had anything to wear, of course. He had no nice shirts to speak of, only one good jacket, and his Corellian ceremonial gold-striped pants needed pressed. Badly.  
Sighing, Han landed on a small station on the eighth moon of Risig-joh. The station had a diner, and Han had an old acquaintance inside.   
"Come on Chewie," he said to the sulking mass of fur, "let's get a bite."  
"I don't think this is a good idea," Chewie growled.  
"I didn't ask for your opinion," he snapped, "now let's go!" The two sauntered into the diner, leaving the Falcon with a few Jawas to be refueled. A tall blonde waitress looked up and brightened. She hurried over to Han, who pulled her into a short but steamy kiss. Chewie rolled his eyes. This was Han's way of escape; he'd seen it before. Frustration, embarrassment, and insecurity melted away when Han could find a woman who'd put him in control. It was going to be a lonely night for the Wookie, the kind when the pain he felt from the separation of his wife was intolerable.  
"Hiya handsome," drawled the waitress.  
"Hey Vitrih, how're you?" Han smiled taking a seat at the counter.  
"Excellent, what'll you have?" Han swallowed hard. Suddenly, his usual plan was beginning to seem less appealing. He was in too foul a mood to give himself to this woman. Every part of him ached, from his ears to his toes, and most especially his pride.  
"We can't stay long. What's ready?" He saw the smile fade away on her face and the toughened look she gave to every other diner appeared on her features.   
"Soup. Salad."  
"Soup. And coffee. Black."  
"Right away, Captain."   
He watched her return to the kitchen. What the Hell had he just done? Turned down Vitri, probably the most beautiful woman he knew. The woman who'd eased his pain every other time he'd passed through Risig-joh. Well, she was too pissed to make life any easier now. Chewbacca growled at him angrily. Han ignored the smarting curses the wookie issued readily. Soup and coffee were slapped down in front of Han.  
"You going to eat, Chewie?"  
"No."  
"Fine, starve, you could afford to lose a little." The sat in near silence, Han slurping on the soup. In minutes, not a drop was left in either mug or bowl. Han swiveled his stool to face Chewbacca. The wookie averted his eyes; Solo wasn't going to get through that easily.   
"I am not speaking to you." Han rolled his eyes and slammed his fist on the table.   
"Fine, you big hairy ass! Fine, then! I'll just leave without you and you just won't see Mala!"  
"Mala?" Chewie snapped to attention. "Why are we going home? What about your debt?" Han looked up almost sheepishly.  
"You're going home. I'm going to Jabba," he answered.  
"Why can't I come? There's this little thing called a life-debt that I sort of owe you, if you've forgotten. Don't think for an instant that I'd stick with you by choice!" Han smiled weakly.  
"It's called a life-debt, Chewie, not a death-debt." Chewbacca eyed Han carefully. There was defiantly something his partner wasn't telling him.  
"You don't know for sure that Jabba will kill you. When you show up with fifty thousand credits, he surely can't kill you off that quickly."  
"I didn't take the money," Han whispered.  
"WHAT?" roared Chewbacca. The other diners looked up, startled. "Why not, Cub?" he continued, dropping to a low growl. Han smirked at the old nickname.  
"I figured I didn't deserve it. Sure I rescued the princess, but it was mostly Luke. Sure I covered his back on the Death Star, but he fired the shot. And since he's sticking around with that Rebellion without a reward, I decided that they should keep their own money. Buy themselves some decent equipment. I kept that two thousand the old man gave me. That's mine! But I'm still not sure how far it'll get me with Jabba." Chewie smiled at the morals Han kept carefully guarded. The smuggler would run from the law for the rest of his life, but deep down he knew when he'd crossed the line. He wasn't honest and righteous, but he'd defend those who were-but before only if there was something in it for him. This was certainly a new development, but not a surprising one.  
"Well, why are you going to let Jabba just take you? Why throw away your life when it's just starting out?" Han sighed, tracing his finger along the rim of his mug.  
"I may not have been around all that long, but I've seen a lot. I've worked a lot of trades and never earned much of anything. And now, it just seems like I haven't got anything worth working for, much less living for. So we're dropping you at home, and then I'll do this last one my way."  
They left the payment and tip for Vitrih, then walked out to the Falcon. Wordlessly they climbed aboard, but as soon as the hatch was closed, Chewie grabbed Han and threw him against a wall. The pain of seeing his friend give up on life so young (by his standards anyway) was almost too much to bear.  
"Now Han, you listen to me, and you listen good. What the Hell are you talking about?"  
"Just what I said before. There's nothing left for me. The kid? The Princess? They've got their whole lives ahead of them. Hell, they won't live much longer, but at least they have something to work for. Even you...a wife, a son. Almost thirty damn years in this galaxy and what do I have to show for it? A bounty on my head and a shit load of people pissed at me back in that temple. So, might as well give Jabba what he wants. At this point, I'm pretty sure it's what I want too." Chewie sighed sadly and ruffled his hair gingerly.  
"Cub, damn, you still have a lot to live for," he whispered lovingly. "You're a hero."  
"So now I've got a title to live up to. You don't hit the hero mark twice, and when you don't, they wonder why."  
"I'm sure, Lieutenant," Chewie returned, emphasizing the title.   
"That wasn't heroism, Chewie, that was suicide."  
"That made you a friend," he replied, then more softly, "and a hero, in my eyes anyway." Han swallowed hard. Okay, maybe he had a knack for skirting death and coming out on top. But that didn't change the fact that he'd nothing more to work for. Saving a wookie wasn't heroism, and neither was blasting a TIE off Luke's back. It was friendship, pure and simple. Han knew that if he went back, they'd hang a medal around his neck, and give him...  
...acceptance. Respect. Recognition. Damn, everything he wanted, what he'd always wanted. And why was he turning all this done? Because he was afraid to get close to the Rebellion. It was probably the quickest way to get himself killed, after turning himself in. And all that responsibility. Hell, after what he did, the high command would probably give him a commission to look after.  
"Chewie, I can't have other people's lives hanging over my soul. The only deaths I want to be responsible for are my enemies." Chewbacca caught on, and released him. Damn man and his damn mind. Everything stood in a cloud of conviction and confusion.   
"Han, you don't have to be official with them, but stick by. This Alliance is good for you. It's been a while since I saw you stick your neck out for anybody. And even longer since I saw you with a girl who wasn't a slut looking for a buck," he finished with a wink. Han rolled his eyes and swatted at Chewie.  
"I wasn't with her, that implies that I got laid. Far from it, pal. She'd probably join the Imps before give into a guy like me." Han returned to his cabin and pulled out his meager wardrobe.   
"What are you doing?" Chewie queried.  
"Punch the co-ords for Yavin. I ain't about to let the kid get all the credit again. Besides, illegal types like them generally have good drinks. There's going to be one Helluva party tonight." The Wookie made his way into the cockpit, knowing that this was as close to surrender as Han would get. Personally, Chewbacca was thrilled. These humans they'd met were truly good friends. Even that fiery woman who'd called him a walking carpet-she seemed to be wonderfully companionable, when she have a taste for blood. Yes, this was the start of something much bigger than Chewie would've ever imagined when Han agreed to transport the old man and Luke. Something so much bigger and better...  
  
*****  
  
Leia paced impatiently through her chamber. Her hair was dripping wet, she was only half dressed, and General Dodonna was trying to hold a meeting with her. Apparently, he couldn't make a single decision about this ceremony without her input. Frankly, at this point, Leia couldn't have cared less. Two other generals were present, Rieekan and Furgew. The three men were making Leia very uneasy as she stood in only a slip, braiding her sopping hair. They at least kept their eyes respectfully averted. Outside the circumstances, the four wouldn't have dreamed of holding this conference before the ceremony.  
"So he's gone?" Leia asked, securing the elaborate hairstyle with as many bobby pins as she could scrounge together.  
"Yes, Princess, it would appear that way," replied Dodonna, amazed that she could make her long Alderaani hair look so perfect when she was pacing about the chamber. Furgew nodded in agreement.  
"Gave me quite the shock when I tried to stop him." Leia paled. What had that blasted smuggler done now?   
"I apologize for any disrespect Captain Solo may have directed toward you, Sir," she gushed quickly. That man...that infuriating man...  
"Oh no, Your Highness. He was quite polite, just seemed as though he was very lost and almost...sad, I would say," returned Furgew.  
"He still needs to be recognized," Dodonna continued.  
"For what?" Leia snapped, "taking our money and skipping off to meet his merry doom?"  
"Without his help, we would never had such a successfully executed rescue or battle."  
"All right. I guess I'll improvise something...'Fellow Rebels'...no used that one last time..."  
"Pity he couldn't stick around," Rieekan said to the other men. "I would've loved to have worked with him. There is certainly a thing or two he could teach my soldiers."  
"Like what?" Leia scoffed. "How to completely disregard authority? How to nearly get themselves killed?" A ring sounded from her door. She paced toward it. "How not to pick up women?"   
"They've got all that down pat already," muttered Furgew.  
As she flung the door open, all three generals exchanged a knowing look. Dodonna and Rieekan were close friends of Bail, and Furgew had known Leia since her Senatorial campaign. Han Solo and the Princess would have been a very funny friendship indeed.   
"Leia, is it true?" The generals turned to face the visitor. Luke Skywalker had entered, trying desperately not to let his eyes rove about Leia's petite frame. Giving her head one final pat, she turned and reached for her gown.  
"That Han is gone?" She pulled it on and began working the ornate buttons. "Ha! Like anything else would be even plausible!" She paused, struggling with a button just out of reach.  
"But Leia, after he came back, I really thought he'd stay," Luke replied sadly.   
"Yeah, so did I," she snapped, opening a box of jewelry. She softened when she saw the downtrodden expression line his face. "I'm sorry Luke. I know you were closer to him than I was." Dodonna, Rieekan, and Furgew sat back down on her bunk, listening for some hint as to the Princess's experience with this farm boy and that smuggler.  
"I guess."  
"But Han is a mercenary. I shouldn't have been naïve enough to even consider that there was more to him than money."  
The four became more aware of the Princess's far away look. Leia sighed heavily, taking a cubist necklace from a blue box. Lovingly she caressed the cool metal before putting it around her neck. Leia nodded firmly and turned to Luke.  
"Leia, you look...great."  
"Yes, I suppose I clean up all right after that little fiasco in the trash compactor. You don't look half bad yourself."  
"Leia..."  
"Luke," she cut him off, "Generals, I'm not going to lie to you. I think it was a bad idea to give Captain Solo all that money. Honestly, he was perfectly willing to take seventeen thousand..." Luke snorted incredulously. "All right, maybe not perfectly happy, but think of what we could've done with that money!" The group made their way out into the corridor. The meeting over Solo's disappearance hadn't accomplished much, but the ceremony couldn't wait.  
"You don't think rescuing you deserves a reward?" queried Dodonna. She knew he meant it nicely, but his tone implied that she was being a pill.  
"Luke rescued me too, and he's not asking for money. AND he's staying!" Leia defended herself. Luke smiled at her.  
"Well I don't have a debt to a gangster. Which Han would be able to pay off, IF..." Luke stalled, hoping to build the tension. "he'd taken the money."  
"You mean he didn't?" Leia flushed horridly.   
"Nope."  
"He didn't take the money?"  
"That's what I said."  
"So we still get it?"  
"I guess."  
"But he didn't take it the money?"  
"No." Luke was quickly tiring of this conversation. For an acclaimed leader, Leia was very slow in picking this up.  
"And he's headed to Jabba's?"  
"I think so."  
"THAT MORON! He'll be killed. I KNEW he was headed for Tatooine...if he shows his face there without anything...even if he had...it's certain death...suicide..."  
"Princess, I had no idea you cared," said a familiar voice from behind her. Turning, Leia saw Han stand before her small group, dressed as well as he could. He had a clean vest and shirt on, the shirt buttoned up all the way and tucked into his gold striped pants that led into well -shined boots. His hair was even partially under control. Leia was floored for only a moment. Suring herself, the princess reached forward and slapped Han across the face.  
"ASS HOLE! What do you mean you didn't take the money?"  
"Got a Hell of a way of welcoming your heroes, Your Worshipfulness. And what do you mean?" Shocked, he turned to Luke "You told her? I told you specifically NOT to tell anybody. Especially her!" Luke shrugged sheepishly.  
"I wasn't going to let her talk about you the way she was. Besides, she has a right to know when you do something chivalrous."  
"CHIVALROUS?" exclaimed Han and Leia, who promptly glared at each other. It was all the poor generals could do not to laugh at them.  
"Now, now, you three," began Dodonna, "I hate to interrupt, but we have a ceremony to attend."  
"Where's the medal for Captain Solo?" asked Rieekan.  
"With Luke's. Well, there's one less speech I'll have to give." A well-combed wookie suddenly hurried up to the group.  
"HAN! WHERE THE-"   
"Sorry, Chewie, got to go be a hero..." Han shrugged. They continued down the corridor, Leia quickly dictating to Han and Chewbacca how the ceremony would go. Han could barley concentrate as he watched her hips sway gently. She looked marvelous, and Han knew that he needed to get to know her better. Leia would probably be the death of him, but perhaps he could claim martyrdom.   
"Han," said General Furgew, "Rieekan asked you a question." Han snapped out of his daydream.   
"Oh, sorry uh, general. What was it again?"   
"I wanted to know if you still intend to leave after we recognize you as an Alliance hero?"  
"Nah," drawled Han, tugging at his high collar, "I think I finally found myself a good occupation. You know, something to work for." They all nodded in agreement, but Leia felt as though her cheeks were a flaming inferno. Han saw her stiffen and grinned brightly. So she wasn't so slow to pick up such double entendres. This was defiantly something to work for... 


End file.
